


Twin Cores

by fenwickellie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-06 00:50:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15875132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenwickellie/pseuds/fenwickellie
Summary: Summary: i really don’t wanna spoil it so this will be the vaguest summary ever but basically harry and tom are at school together, follows some canon major events in the years but has to be some major differences but this will become obvious why as it progresses





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: (this chapter only) none except kinda sad i guess?
> 
> Hello so this is the first hp fanfic I have ever written so any comments//tips//whatever would be appreciated please ! (also forgive me for leaving some canon stuff out i can kinda get away with this as its my story soooo)
> 
> (The story should be in seven parts for each school year and then a prologue and epilogue!!) (Oh also will most likely become a dark!harry in the later chapters when he’s older than like 12 lol)

Dumbledore pushed his half-moon glasses further up his nose with his forefinger. What could their next move be? More and more Order members were either disappearing or being found dead, many believed it was becoming almost unreasonable for him to send people to complete tasks now. Although, for the sake of helping all of Wizardkind - Dumbledore believed it was very much justified.

He looked up from his desk to the doorway of his office, where the stone gargoyle had begun to bang and shake. Minerva McGonagall became visible in the doorway, lips tight, a panicked look upon her face.

“Albus, I…It’s happened. He’s found them.”

Dumbledore’s eyes met McGonagall’s for a long moment. Then he sighed deeply and looked at the desk. “They were so sure, they were certain that Black would never betray them. You saw yourself during their school days and -“ 

Albus wait there’s more” She interrupted. Dumbledore paused, waiting for her to continue.

“The boy, Harry Potter, he’s alive.”

Albus stood up suddenly. “And Voldemort ?” he asked. 

"Gone, dead, appears as if the killing curse backfired on him.” she informed him. He walked around his desk and approached her. 

"We need to contact the ministry and inform them of what’s happened, and somebody has to deal with Severus. I know he will almost certainly know that Lily Potter is dead by now, but if he returns here he must be dealt with away from the students. Also, I must go and fetch Hagrid.” 

"Hagrid ? Why whatever for?” she asked, truly puzzled. 

"I am sending Hagrid to go and retrieve the boy.” 

"Oh Albus, are you sure that’s wise ? Trusting Hagrid with something as important as this?” 

"Minerva I would trust Hagrid with my life.” He stated simply, before sweeping out of the room, McGonagall following him.

~~~

Tears were leaking down Hagrid’s face before he could even see the little cottage. As he walked up the street, the violent destruction became evident. The cottage had virtually no roof left, the walls crumbling down and smoke still faintly wafting from a small fire on the ground floor. He quickened his pace and burst through the front door, pointing his flowery pink umbrella at the fire. Water spurted out and it died instantly. Hagrid listened, a faint cry was coming from upstairs. He found the staircase and headed up, turning to enter the only open doorway upstairs. As he approached the cot, he stared down, blinking slightly, unable to believe his own eyes.

~~~

Dumbledore appeared on Privet Drive with a sharp crack. A softer crack sounded seconds afterwards, McGonagall had apparated less than a meter away from him. “Always so peaceful aren’t they, muggle neighbourhoods?” Albus asked aloud, retrieving a small metal object from his pocket and clicking it. The lights from every street lamp went out and flew directly into the deluminator.

The entire street now laid in dark silence, only faint rustles of the wind blowing against bushes and trees could be heard. The two people waited silently, staring upwards as if waiting.

“I think this is him Albus” McGonagall said, looking up into the dark sky where two lights had appeared, much closer than the distant twinkling stars. The motorbike became closer and closer until Hagrid’s massive body could be seen upon it. Dumbledore and McGonagall moved aside, and seconds later the flying bike crashed down next to them on the road.

“Everything go well Hagrid ?” Dumbledore asked with a small smile, but it fell as he saw Hagrid’s concerned face. 

"Well I don’t know what to tell yer Professor, so just have a look for yerself.” Dumbledore stepped forward, peering down into the blanket.

Two pairs of eyes stared up at him. One pair bright green, a red and jagged lightning bolt shaped scar newly etched upon the baby’s forehead. The other eyes were dark, almost black. The babies looked from each other, to Dumbledore, back to each other again.

“How can this be ? Did the Potters hide a second baby from the world ? What would be the purpose?” McGonagall asked, utterly astounded by what she saw in the blanket. 

Dumbledore frowned, “I’m not sure Minerva, However I have met Harry before and I know that he is the one with the green eyes, his mother’s.” He brushed his hand over the scar. “Apparently Voldemort has left a mark on him.” He looked concerned, but then regained a steady look. “The plan shall not change. We shall still leave Harry with his Aunt and Uncle. I will take the other baby back to Hogwarts, until we can find more out about their identity. Harry is the one in danger, the prophecy spoke only of one boy.”

Hagrid removed his giant scarf, handing it to Dumbledore to wrap around the second baby. The moment the two babies were separated, they both began to cry. “I don’t think they want to be apart Professor.” Hagrid chuckled. 

"I don’t think we can expect the muggle relatives to take in both children Hagrid. I’m afraid we have no choice. Only Harry should be in danger after all, the second child can be raised by wizards, so long as they present magical ability.” Dumbledore explained. He hushed baby Harry, wrapped him tight in his blanket and attached a letter to him. He quietly stepped up the drive to number 4 and placed Harry on the front door step.

McGonagall looked down at the second baby, worry etched on her face. “He’s a he” Hagrid informed her, and she nodded. 

"Albus, do we know anybody who would be looking for a child to raise?” She asked, but Dumbledore shook his head. 

"I am not sure yet. But I am sure somebody will be willing. Although I think it is wise to not inform just everybody that the Potters had two sons. We shall have to come up with a new identity for him.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i changed my mind with the prologue, chapter per schoolyear then epilogue because then updates would be way less frequent. now there will just be updates whenever i have written them, and some school years shall be in more depth than others.
> 
> thanks for reading !!

Horace Slughorn pulled on his long brown coat and fastened up his shoes, tying each lace with exaggerated care. He straightened his trousers then ruffled his hair in his hallway mirror. There was nothing for it, he could put it off all day, or he could just go and get it all done with. He stepped out his front door and locked it behind him, before vividly imaging the old cobbled street in his mind, turning on the spot and disapparated.

His surroundings looked slightly different to the last time he had been here, which was many years ago now. More trees lined the streets and a quiet bustle of wizards and witches walked to and fro. Number 31, he remembered, and hurried along on his way. Slughorn pulled his hat down to cover most of his face. Being recognised would only delay this already rather unpleasant task. He headed down the pathway at a quick pace, looking up every couple of houses until he reached number 31. 

Slughorn headed up the wooden porch steps, and then knocked three times on the door. Footsteps sounded at once, approaching. The door flew open, and Slughorn was once again staring in the face, of his younger brother.

“Horace! So good to see you my brother!”

“The same to you Barticus. Now do let me in please, it is freezing out here.” Slughorn followed his brother into the small hallway. The last time he had been in this house, it was dark, unclean, and sparsely decorated. Now however, bright sunshine shone in through the windows, portraits of family and friends lined the walls.

“Well how have you been Horace? Please don’t feel guilty for our lack of communication since mother and father passed, I know we all grieve in our own ways.” Barticus smiled warmly, arm directing Slughorn into a sitting room on the left of the hall.

Slughorn followed, and sat himself down on a big, plush arm chair by the fire place. The last time he had seen this room also, the chairs were cold and uninviting, the fireplace barren and ugly. Now, the fire roared and a pleasant warmth radiated from it. “Well Barticus I can’t lie it hasn’t been easy, but I’ve kept myself busy. But what about you? I heard you got yourself a little project to keep you on your toes.”

Barticus smiled, he looked upwards dreamily. “Ah Horace, I have never been happier. I shall introduce you at once!” He practically leapt up from his seat and sprinted out of the room up the stairs. Horace wondered how on earth his brother had changed this much. Once a dirty, shy man into who he saw now.

In mere moments, Barticus returned into the sitting room, a small child in tow. “Horace, meet Thomas. Thomas, this is your uncle Horace.” He introduced, smiling dearly, transfixed on the small boy in front of him.

Slughorn studied the boy, he could be no older than seven, yet he did not look cheeky, or whine, or shy away as young children usually did when met with strangers. Instead he appeared entirely calm, collected. He was a very handsome child, with dark sweeping hair over his eyes. Then he spoke, 

“Pleasure to meet you Uncle Horace, my name is Thomas. My father has told me so much about you.” 

His voice was soft, and Horace had to blink several times before he could quite comprehend that this small boy had offered him a hand to shake. He took it, and nodded at his nephew. 

“Likewise Thomas, likewise.”

Barticus sent Thomas back upstairs to play. Slughorn leant back in his chair, for some reason rather unsettled. Could it be, that he had seen the small boy somewhere before? Something struck him as terribly familiar.

Slughorn noticed that his brother had barely let his eyes drift from the boy for more than a second when he was in the room. He was completely and entirely smitten with him. Slughorn was not surprised, a boy so charming.

“Barticus, I know you told me many years a go that you had adopted a son. But how? Where did you find him? He is magical, I could feel it in him. But surely magical children up for adoption are very rare, the last one I heard of was Harry Potter himself! And even he ended up staying with some muggle relatives apparently, Dumbledore’s doing I expect.” Slughorn was bemused, he looked up at his brothers face.

Barticus chuckled, “Well actually dear brother, it was Dumbledore that united me with my precious boy. About six years ago, he contacted a few select individuals that had either lost children or loved ones. He knew of my despair in not being able to find my own love to provide our parents with grandchildren before they passed, and reminded me that even though they are not in this world, any of my children will still be their family. Nothing could alter that.” Barticus seemed positively euphoric, it was almost alarming. But Slughorn pushed for more explanations.

“But how did Dumbledore acquire a magical child?” He asked, leaning forwards towards his brother, expectant.

“He wouldn’t tell me! But it didn’t matter Horace, the moment I looked into his big, dark eyes, i knew. He was brought to me as only a baby, yet I knew I couldn’t be without him a moment longer. My son. My precious lovely son. You know he is so well behaved Horace? Never throws tantrums, never cried as a young baby. Perfect manners the second he could talk. Intelligence beyond compare!” Barticus was almost singing, every word he sounded more joyful.

Slughorn however, was less than impressed. The knowledge that Dumbledore had introduced this child into his family. Surely, Dumbledore would not have found a child, made it so he would become his nephew simply to charm the memory out of him? Surely, Dumbledore would not be so determined as to dedicate a child’s life to this one task?

He was not sure, however, he was certain that he would be very sure to not get overly friendly with his new nephew.

~~~

Harry Potter was over the moon. Here he was, finally out of his aunt and uncle’s house. Here he was, heading through London with the first person who had ever been kind to him, had treated him as a friend, not to mention had bought him a birthday cake.

He looked up, and saw a sign above the door that Hagrid had just entered through. The Leaky Cauldron, it read.

Inside, gasps and excited exclamations were filling the air around him. Whispers of “Harry? Harry Potter? Golly it’s him Janet!” rang in Harry’s ears until he stepped outside through a different door, face to face with a brick wall. Hagrid pulled out his flowery pink umbrella, and tapped a single brick. Harry’s eyes widened as the bricks began to move aside, and Hagrid began to squeeze through the archway they had created.

“Come on ‘arry! This way now.” Harry trotted after Hagrid, taking in the sights and sounds of the busy shopping district before him. People rushed by in long robes, children peering through shop windows and whispering excitedly.

After Harry had retrieved his money from Gringotts, Hagrid left him with instructions to purchase a wand. Harry made his way to Ollivanders, and the bell sounded as he pushed open the door.

Harry could hear a man’s panicky voice coming from a balcony on the second floor. He peered up to see an older adult wizard, speaking to a young boy.

“Oh I assure you this has never happened before ! I always have a wand! For every wizard! Just try another just one more!” The man who Harry assumed to be Ollivander was pilling up boxes under both arms, throwing them frantically at the boy.

“Honestly sir, it is not a problem I just-“ the boy began,

“NO!” Ollivander interrupted, gathering even more wands for the boy to try.

“Mr Ollivander sir, you have another customer. I am more than happy to try these wands whilst you attend to him first.” The boy politely explained, smiling at Ollivander in a way that he could not refuse. This seemed to return the wizard to his senses, he nodded at the boy and turned to Harry, heading down the stairs to greet him.

“Hello there, terribly sorry about that. New wand is it? starting Hogwarts in September?” Ollivander smiled at Harry.

“Yes sir.” Harry replied. Ollivander went to retrieve a box from a nearby shelf.

“Try this one son, beechwood and dragon heartstring, 9 inches.” Ollivander handed Harry a wand, and harry stared down at it, unsure of what to do. “Oh give it a wave boy!” Ollivander added, a little impatiently.

Harry waved the wand feebly, but Ollivander took the wand back. “No good no good, try this. Ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches.”

Harry waved this wand too, but Ollivander still looked unsatisfied. “I’m having a spot of rather bad luck today wouldn’t you say mr- what was your name again young one?”

“Harry, Harry Potter sir.” Harry told him. Ollivander’s eyes widened.

“Mr Potter! Oh I am terribly sorry, yes now that I am thinking clearly I do see the resemblance to James, and the scar, oh it is real after all.” His eyes lingered on Harry’s forehead, making Harry gulp anxiously.

Harry looked around, and noticed the boy who had remained on the balcony. The boy was already looking at Harry, and when their eyes met Harry had the strangest feeling of familiarity mixed with fear. His heart skipped, his throat suddenly dry.

“I wonder...” Ollivander broke Harry out of his thoughts about the boy. “Holly, phoenix feather, 11 inches.”

Harry took the wand and felt a strange sensation in his fingers, a warmth almost. He waved it, high above his head this time, sparks flying through the air.

Ollivander clapped with excitement. “I knew I still had it! My wands are still excellent!”

“Mr Ollivander?”

Harry looked round, the boy had come down from the balcony and was approaching Harry and Ollivander. “I haven’t tried any phoenix wands yet I am sure of it. Perhaps?”

Even though he had addressed Ollivander, the boy was staring intently at Harry. Without hesitation, Harry handed over the phoenix wand, the boys hand already outstretched to accept it.

“But Mr Potter already has that wand, it chose him.” Ollivander began, but the boy ignored him and addressed Harry directly this time.

“I’m Tom, Thomas Slughorn.” Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Tom shook his head. “I know who you are, Harry Potter.” Their eyes did not separate, both clutching onto each end of the wand.

Ollivander looked from Harry to Tom, he attempted to ease the tension, “Mr Slughorn, there are many other wands in my shop, I’m sure not all is yet-“

But finally their gaze was broken as Tom tore his eyes from Harry’s, down to the wand. Harry let go and allowed Tom to take it fully from him.

He waved it the same as Harry had done, however this time instead of pretty, harmless sparks, the wand shot out an angry burst of red fire. A shelf caught alight, wands crashing to the floor.

“Aguamenti!” Ollivander yelled, water spurting from his wand and quenching the fire. The holly and phoenix wand shot away from Tom, flying high up into the air and landing at Harry’s feet as it landed. “Well, if that isn’t a clear enough indication that this wand has chosen Mr Potter…” Ollivander said, looking uncomfortable. 

Harry purchased the wand and left the shop, only just catching Tom describe ‘the familiarity of the phoenix core’ to Ollivander, and the adult wizard grumbling how ‘an eleven year old could not possibly feel the core of a wand’.

\---

Thomas Slughorn gazed up at the evening sky from the little boats crossing the lake of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His father had described his own first day of Hogwarts countless times, and yet Tom could not help feel as if he had seen this particular scene somewhere other than his own imagination, during when he was being read bed time stories as a small child.

Being lead into the great hall, he lined up behind the other first years, watching each as they were sorted into one of the four houses by the sorting hat. Tom had spent years reading about all the famous witches and wizards in Slytherin house, where he was sure he was to be placed. Perhaps it was because both his father and uncle had been Slytherin (his uncle even head of house). Something about the house just seemed better than all the others.

Tom looked around idly whilst the rest of the student were being sorted before him, passing a glance at those sorted into Slytherin. Only when he heard Professor McGonagall read out “Potter, Harry” did he look round.

The boy he had seen days before, the Holly and phoenix wand poking out of his robes, was heading up to the seat with the sorting hat. Tom watched this sorting, intrigued for the first time. Whilst he should have had little reason to care about this Potter boy, Tom blamed his fascination on the fact that Harry Potter boy was rather famous, although it still confused Tom as to why.

He remembered when one of the wizard children down his street mentioned the name “Potter”. Tom had stopped focusing on tripping the girl who was attempting to practise the muggle game “hopscotch” and immediately quizzed the boy. Sonething about the name had stuck with Tom for years. All he had heard from the other child was that this “Harry Potter” was famous amongst wizards for being extraordinary and powerful. But then when he discovered he was to go to school with him, even in the same school year, Tom was confused about what magic an uneducated wizard child could do to make himself so famous. When he had asked his father, he had been told to never mention the subject again, with bribes of his favourite dessert after dinner. Asking his uncle however, had been almost disastrous.

Tom watched as the hat was placed on Harry’s head. Surely being so powerful, so extraordinary, that he would be placed in Slytherin?

“Gryffindor!” The hat shouted.

Tom felt…annoyed? Or was it disappointment? He shook his head, telling himself it didn’t matter. Who cares what house another boy is placed in?

When McGonagall finally called “Slughorn, Thomas” Tom stepped up to the stool and sat down. The sorting hat did not speak to him, and for over a whole minute the hat did not make any sound sound at all. Teachers anxiously looked at one another, students appeared confused. Finally, the hat spoke, loud and sounding a little alarmed.

“But boy, I have already sorted you?”


End file.
